


As We Are

by Literary



Series: Before Colors Broke into Shades [61]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 05:04:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7671169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literary/pseuds/Literary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Welcome home."</p>
            </blockquote>





	As We Are

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dameceles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dameceles/gifts).



> Part of the five-sentence meme on Tumblr where a person gives me the first sentence and I write the next however-many-I-choose. This was requested by Damoselcastel. Slight headcanon of modern!HoH!Armin.

The first time Armin said, “Welcome home,” Annie stopped in the doorway. She stayed frozen halfway through the doorframe, eyes wide, lips slightly parted as she processed the busy sounds floating over to her from the kitchen: a knife against the cutting board, a hand brushing onions into a skillet, the soft movement of socks against the linoleum floor. 

A long moment passed before Armin broke it gently, as he always did, by saying her name, calling it over with concern etched at the edges: “Annie?” 

Though he was in the next room, hidden by the entryway closet, she could almost picture him pausing, spatula in hand, head tilted with his left ear facing her. She closed the door behind her and shuffled into the kitchen, mumbling out a dry, “I don’t live here, you know,” as she dropped her bag on the table.

“That’s true,” he said, and turned to smile at her—cheeks flushed from either the skillet’s heat or his thoughtless welcoming phrase, “but maybe I’m saying it because...”

He did not continue. His gaze fell to the skillet, eyebrows furrowing as he concentrated on sautéing the onions for whatever dish he had in mind for dinner. She was sure she wasn’t imagining the blush, now.

“Because?” she prompted, her tone level. Only Armin would know to listen for the encouragement edging her words—the curiosity.

He shifted his weight, smile turning shy and awkward. “It’s just—when you’re here it feels that way for me. Like home.”

**Author's Note:**

> “The ache for home lives in all of us. The safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.”  
> ― Maya Angelou


End file.
